


MsMrMx Survivor

by caprigender



Series: The adventures of Mica Lynne, Sole Survivor of Vault 111 and esteemed mayor of Trashtown Micatropolis [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Genderqueer Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:37:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6171259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprigender/pseuds/caprigender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deacon cases a genderqueer sole survivor. </p><p>Based off of my experiences running into this secretive dork before I was technically supposed to know who he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MsMrMx Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> First time I met Deacon he used he/him pronouns for my sole, which was a glitch, but was definitely the most gender-affirming feel-good glitch I have ever come across.

“Impressive work, I like it. Can I ask a favor though?”

“Sure, anything, what do you need?”

The vault dweller paused a moment, gazing down at the paper. “It’s a little… Gendered.” Deacon wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Gendered?” Judging by the sound of her voice, the reporter girl hadn’t been expecting that either.

“Yeah, gendered. I mean, ‘The Woman out of Time’ and all… it’s not technically inaccurate but, I dunno, it doesn’t tell the whole story,” she explained, “I mean, usually I ask folks to mix it up with my pronouns and titles when they talk about me. But in press writing it can get a little confusing so I usually go for the singular they/them. It’s clean cut and gender neutral.”

Papers rustled and fluttered as Piper leafed through the draft, chicken scratching in edits, “Gotcha, gender neutralize it. How bout ‘The Hero out of Time’? That title lofty enough for you?”

The stranger snorted, “Please, ‘vault-dweller’ will work just fine.”

“I dunno, Blue, heroes sell more papers, don’t they?”

“Whatever happened to respectable journalism? Did that die out with 90% of the world’s population, too?” She heaved an overblown sigh, “What has the world come to?”

The reporter laughed, “Fine, ‘Vault-dweller’ it is. Jeez, Blue, I thought you were all about the dramatics.”

-.-

“Daisy, right?” They asked, their voice soft and deep. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about these library books, Daisy. And hey, if you ever feel like kicking back and talking bout the old days feel free to hit me up. I don’t know if you’re into guys, dolls, or something else entirely, but I like to think I’ve got my bases covered in that regard.” Deacon could practically hear the cheesey wink the vault dweller directed at Daisy after that comment.

Daisy laughed, “Well, aren’t you the flatterer.”

“I’m a flirt, doll, it’s what I do,” Deacon grinned and pretended to focus on the crafting station he was at. “But seriously, you let me know if I can buy you a drink or something. Toodles!”

He snickered. Toodles? Oh that was too much.

“What are you giggling about?” Daisy teased, “Didn’t think an old gal like me could land a sweet young thing like her?”

“Young? They’re at least as old as you if their story’s got any truth in it.”

Daisy chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t know about that. Still, stranger things have happened, haven’t they?”

Deacon nodded. Stranger things indeed.

-.-

“General? Are you ok?”

The general nodded, brushing tears from the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, PG, I’m fine it’s just… I’m gonna be fine.” Deacon lingered in the square, watching the two of them as other townies went about their business again. Sure, Hancock gave a good speech and all, but he wasn’t THAT good. Come on, General, did that really move you to tears?

“Do we need to stop and take a break? I know this might be an intimidating place but I hear the Hotel Rexford has good deals on rooms at least.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” He smiled at him, “I wasn’t sure I’d ever find a place I felt like I really belonged.”

The minuteman blinked in shock. “And… you feel like you belong here? In Goodneighbor?”

He sniffed and nodded. “Just another freak without a real home, I guess.” He laughed a little and scratched at his goatee. “I don’t know. I don’t feel so judged here. Felt pretty damn judged back in Diamond City. I mean, maybe it was just my imagination but…” He shrugged. “It’s whatever. We should get moving. Wouldn’t want to keep Valentine waiting.”

“Yes, sir.”

Deacon watched them wander over to the Memory Den. The General wiped his eyes on his sleeve a few times and Garvey offered an awkward but reassuring pat on the back. Cute.

-.-

He was crying this time. Not sniffling, not tearing up, full-out, honest-to-god, leaking from every face-hole crying. Deacon did not envy Hancock’s position at all. The mayor stood by as tears and snot dripped down his companion’s face. The Silver Shroud Radio’s last broadcast played on repeat over his pip-boy, garbled voices, gunshot and all.

He pressed buttons and turned dials, likely setting his destination on the little wrist-computer, and all the while he coughed and sobbed and wiped his tears off on a ruined sleeve.

“Hey,” the mayor finally offered up, “Listen, I get that you’re one of those bleeding-heart types, but you realize that’s helping you out here, right?” The general paused in his work a moment and looked up. “I mean, Sinjin’s looking to cause the most damage before killing you. Way I see it, he needs you alive for that, both of you.”

The general sniffed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, that makes sense… I can work with that.” He dug around in his backpack and pulled out a flannel shirt. He dried his face, blew his nose, and stuffed the shirt back in the bag. Ew. He took a deep shaky breath and stood up. “Ok, I think I know what I gotta tell him I got this. I can play this shit, work it to my advntage.”

“That’s the spirit. You let me know if you need to take a little chem break, alright?”

He sniffed. “I’ll probably need some jet when we get there. God, I’m shaking. Fuck this. Ugh! Fuck this! Come on, let’s get out of here before I break something.”

“Yeah, Irma probably wouldn’t like that,” Hancock agreed, heading for the door.

The general followed and paused. His eyes locked on Deacon in his memory pod for a moment and he looked confused. Then he shook his head and continued on after the ghoul. Deacon let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Why had that felt like a close call?

-.-

She grinned at him like she knew a secret. It wasn’t a look Deacon liked directed at him. He wasn’t sure what the inside joke was about but he wasn’t in on it and that was enough to make him uncomfortable. Plus, she’d dodged past all his questions, caught him off guard, and insisted on knowing why he trusted her. He’d given her the bare bones of it, nothing too damning he thought, but her smile was smug and way too proud of herself.

The detective seemed to be in on it, too, for that matter. He would look over and catch the way her pre-war-white teeth were glinting in the lamplight and smirk. He had to be in on it, whatever “it” was.

Nevermind, it wasn’t important. That meeting had gone well for all that it was unplanned. Just minutes ago he’d been racing through hallways to catch the group before Des said something to turn their newest possible recruit away beyond a hope of recapture. And now here she was, beaming at him and agreeing to help him take on the world. Well, as far as she knew, that’s what she was agreeing to.

But that grin…

“Alright, crocodile, spill it. What’s with the smile?”

She laughed and pushed her sunglasses back over her frizzy hair. “Crocodile, huh? Do I really look that dangerous?” He folded his arms and smirked at her. Two could play the mysterious smile game. She ran a hand through the stubble of her jawline. “People don’t usually get my pronouns right on the first meeting.” Deacon paused. Yeah, he’d switched up her pronouns, confused Des a little, but that was kinda the point. That’s what she liked, right? Why was she still grinning like that? What was going on? “I think we’ll get along just fine, sweetheart,” she quipped with a wink, “See you in Lexington.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “See you there, croc.”


End file.
